


Almost Like a Prayer

by ShanaRHager



Category: Luigi's Mansion (Video Games), Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brotherly Love, Brothers, Courage, Ghosts, Loyalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanaRHager/pseuds/ShanaRHager
Summary: He'd run away, never look back, if he didn't say the words.  Those words are the only safeguard against the fear...





	1. Do It For Him

**2001**

Those words.

Those four words.

Over and over, they leave my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Lured into a hostile place

A psychotic king intends to do his worst to us.

All around me are my strongest fears

While my brother lays trapped, sealed,

At the king’s mercy.

Yet even as my heart pounds,

Those words

Those four words

Spill from my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

It’s cold here.

Cold and dark.

Alien, hostile.

The spirits lurking within

Snarl malevolently at me.

My only lifelines—

A vacuum cleaner on my back

And an elderly professor safe and sound in his lab.

Yet with shaky steps I tread these halls,

Those words

Those four words

Again and again leaving my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Peeking into an altar,

I see him.

I’ve never seen him like this,

Sealed away

In a macabre mockery of an exquisite art piece.

Screaming.

Fists pounding the walls of his artistic prison.

Alone.

Imprisoned.

Helpless.

Hurt.

There are bruises all over his face,

Gashes crusted over with dried and drying blood,

And his eyes, oh, his eyes—

They bear a wild, frantic look.

Hung on the wall.

Displayed like a prize.

Deprived of any sense of humanity.

His desperate screams echo through the altar.

His frantic screams, heard by no one.

No one—

—except me.

Those words.

Those four words.

Over and over, they stream from my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Now—

From corridor from corridor,

From room to room,

I boldly roam.

Steady steps measure out a beat,

Hands molded around my vacuum.

The feeling of the straps over my shoulders

The weight on my back—

It now seems comforting.

It’s telling me..

_You’re going to do it._

_You’re going to get through this._

Ghost one, ghost two, ghost red, ghost blue—

All of them—they fall to my unshakable resolve.

The ill-tempered baby,

The shadow in the graveyard,

The colossus of a Boo—

I look them all in the face,

And I dare them to try and stop me.

Fight after knock-down-drag-out fight,

Those words

Those four words

Drumming from my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Here I stand at last.

The sadistic king and I

Face to face

The final showdown.

And there’s my bro,

The one who held me

Comforted me

Defended me

Inspired me…

We lock eyes.

I see he wants to hope.

I see he wants to believe.

He’s always stood up for me.

Now, it’s my turn.

The king attacks

In the guise of another foe

One I know all too well.

But—

I level my vacuum

And stand my ground.

Against an infernal backdrop of red and yellow and orange

Rages the fight for my brother’s life.

In his guise, my foe charges

And swipes and claws

And punches.

He rolls spiked balls like deadly dice

And spits cruel fire.

Yet all the while

My vacuum _whirrs_.

It kicks against my hands

My body

My soul…

Hurt.

Fatigued.

Bruised.

Bleeding…

Salty sweat

And tangy-sweet blood

Fills my mouth…

It doesn’t matter.

Not the pain.

Not the bleeding.

Not the bruises.

None of it matters.

None of it…

Only my bro.

The image of his face

Holds fast in my mind.

The sound of his voice

Bathes my ears

And cleanses my heart

Until all of the doubt

All of the fear

All of the pain swirls away

Like dirty water down the drain.

I push my vacuum to threshold,

The flames within me burning brighter

Fiercer

Than the flames from that puppet’s snout.

And those words—

Those words—

Those four words.

Those four little words.

Over and over,

Again and again,

Those four words leave my lips in a whisper.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do.

It.

For.

Him.


	2. Do It For Him Again

**2013**

I had figured something had happened

The first time I tried calling him

And was sent to voicemail.

Twelve years after the first time,

The elderly professor had called me back.

Instead of one mansion

There were five.

But with each one

The stakes increased,

As did my sense of foreboding.

My adventure took me

All across the ghostly valley.

First, there was a mansion

Almost like my first one

Except down in the cellar

Awaited a monstrous surprise—

The most vicious spider queen I’d ever seen.

I had to beat it back to realize

That it was the work of a possessor.

Mansion number two

Was clogged with foliage.

I was snapped at

By giant, carnivorous flytraps.

Then a ghost puppy snatched items I needed

And sent me on wild chases to get them back.

Then I found a Toad

Sealed in that artistic prison

And my mind went back to that night

That awful, awful night—

Now I was this Toad’s only line of defense

Against the ghosts menacing it

While I tried to get him back into the professor’s bunker.

My visit ended up atop a hollow tree

Fighting another possessor

Who’d taken over a staircase.

Easy to beat, really.

It was the game of stairways earlier

That was hard.

I had figured something was wrong

The tenth time I tried calling him

And was sent to voicemail.

Mansion number three

Was all about clocks.

Clock towers, clock makers,

Clock everything.

Brawls in a roundhouse,

Another Toad to free

And an encounter with one ghost

Unlike the others—

One with strange markings.

Markings which made it stronger—

And at the very top

Waited a third possessor,

Taking control of the entire belfry clock.

Twelve battles.

Twelve groups of enemies.

A nail-biting fight, indeed.

Mansion number four

Was ice and snow.

A mining area abandoned

For reasons unknown.

I shivered through the cold

And slid through ice.

Freed another Toad

And ran afoul of more berserk ghosts,

Ghosts with those markings on their bodies—

The diabolical work of the Boos

Who trapped them in crystals.

And over a frozen lake

I thought I saw him—

The power-mad king I hoped never to lay eyes on again

Floating across the sky—

It all ended

With a chilly ride

Down a frozen pit.

Me on a bobsled

Against an ice monster

Courtesy of a fourth possessor.

My blood pumping and my skin hot

Despite the cold air.

I had figured he was in trouble

After countless attempts to call him

And getting sent to voicemail.

Now, here’s mansion number five

Just across a dangerous ravine.

It’s actually a small museum

With several exhibits.

Two Toads were trapped within,

Toads I had to navigate

Through an increasingly dangerous environment.

And it was then

That the situation took a turn

For the worse.

They had my brother

Again.

Stuck in a portrait

Again.

Terrified and hurt and helpless

Again.

It’s up to me to save him

Again.

The Boos had grown more dangerous and cunning.

But the professor made sure I was ready.

He’d armed me with a brand-new vacuum

With a strobe-like function

Stronger suction

A feature to uncover hidden objects

And an extra vacuum surge to take care of those ghosts.

My heart starts to flutter.

But

I take a deep breath

Take those four words

Those four little words

And hold them inside my mind.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

The professor and I try to corner the king.

I’m the one cornered instead.

Another giant Boo laughs and leers

And taunts and gloats

As a train chugs around us.

But my nerves hold

And the train becomes a weapon,

My weapon

Against the big Boo.

The engine pops him into smaller Boos.

I fling the smaller Boos into the compartments.

I escape the trap.

The sound of my heartbeat fills the room

Yet those words

Those four words—

Over and over, my lips mumble them.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

The king is now determined to crush me,

Even if it means endangering the fabric of time and space itself.

He rips open a paranormal portal,

And sends scores and scores of berserk ghosts after me.

I hear the clock tick

As I nimbly move from room to room

Fighting and defeating every ghost I see.

Until—

They confront me on the terrace

In waves.

I’m a one-man army

Against nearly endless waves of berserk ghosts

And still

Those words

Those four words

Again and again, they leap from my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

I now leap into the paranormal portal.

Most consider it near suicide,

But I would die for my bro.

Swatted aside by a fifth possessor

Who chooses two suits of armor as weapons.

I yank out the rug from under them.

Literally.

Then I do the same to three more attacking suits.

I nearly lose it

When the giant suit looms over me.

I nearly lose it

When the giant sword cleanly cleaves through wood.

I nearly lose it

When two giant feet try to flatten me.

But then I catch my breath

And those words

Those four words

Run through my mind and from my lips.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

I find myself in an alien dimension

Controlled by the very king who despises me.

He escaped from his earlier confines

And now he wants my blood.

All of this he masterminded

Just to get to me.

And after he gets me—

He’s getting my friends, too.

I can’t let that happen.

He attacks me

With everything but the kitchen sink.

Spiked balls.

Illusions.

Obstacle courses.

Sand and ice.

Electricity.

Through it all

I stand firm

And weaponize his weapons.

Stranded.

Alone.

Hurt.

Unnerved.

Barely holding on.

But still I fight.

Me and my new vacuum

Against this behemoth.

And again…

Those words…

Those four words…

Those four little words…

Over and over,

I say them to myself

As I meet hate-mad eyes.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

Do it for him.

DO

IT

FOR

HIM.


	3. Do It For Them

**2019**

I won’t freeze up.

Won’t turn back.

Won’t abandon hope.

Not as long as I say the names.

The names of those depending on me.

So I say them.

As I wander through this haunted hotel,

I say their names.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Mario.

Princess Peach.

Toad.

Do it for them.

A chance to relax and unwind

At a mysterious resort

Turned into the worst nightmare imaginable.

The welcoming environment

Has become a death trap.

I’m miles from home

And my friends are missing.

By myself

With no one to rely on

But my trusty vacuum

And a gooey doppelganger.

But there’s nothing to fear

Nothing to dread

As long as I say the names.

The names of my friends

In the clutches of the king

Who made good on his threat.

I walk these halls with my gooey clone

And say their names.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Mario.

Princess Peach.

Toad.

Do it for them.

My vacuum is better than ever.

When fighting a ghost,

I can slam them into the floor

Into each other

Into anything I see fit.

I’ve always wanted to get more aggressive with these ghosts.

When I’m almost overrun,

I’ll give myself some room

With a quick burst of air.

And finally,

I can fire a plunger on a rope.

It gets rid of obstructions like shields

And works as a good tether, too.

My gooey clone has a vacuum, too.

It works the same,

But it’s still nice to have a helping hand this time

Rather than a snarky professor.

We negotiate obstacles

Solve puzzles

And take down every ghost in our way.

I remember who I’m fighting for—

Why I’m still fighting

And not running—

Each time I say the names.

The names of three of the people

Who’ve been nothing but courteous toward me.

I work my way up floor after floor

And say their names.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Mario.

Princess Peach.

Toad.

Do it for them.

One floor is medieval-themed

And ends with me slamming around a ghostly king.

Another is movie-themed

And ends with me starring in a ghost-director’s monster movie.

So many floors.

So many ghosts.

So many adventures.

So many frights.

The only way for me

To keep powering forward

Is to say the names.

The names of those

At my old foe’s mercy.

And so—

Softly, almost reverently,

I say their names.

Almost like a prayer.

Almost like a prayer…

Mario.

Princess Peach.

Toad.

Do it for them.

**DO**

**IT**

**FOR**

**THEM.**


End file.
